The question of my heart
by A Soulless Poet
Summary: In this moment, as he gathers her close, whispers her name and she his. As their lips meet in a forbidden dance, only known by pure instinct...hearts entwine, forever. Souls reach out and embrace their beloved. Breath for breath, they dance this forbidden dance in the quiet secret of night...


Dark eyes scanned the horizon. A frown graced the pale features, eyes squinting in worry. Target lost. Taking a deep breath, pale hands gripped the branch below him tighter, long legs swinging down to land soundlessly on the ground below. Eyes fully closed now, he focused on the flow of chakra through the forest around him. To those who were to just look, it would seem as if he was sleeping. Leaning against a tree, eyes closed, fingers kneaded against his stomach, breathing slow. To the world he was sleeping. But..._they _knew better...

_There! Target found..._

A small grin passed over his lips as he heard a tinkle of a bell. So light, he wouldn't hear it if he wasn't listening for it. He would give his prey some time to scout. Look over the area...he'd already had his ambush planned out...

_Come here..._

Eyes closed, he did his best to stop grinning. His heart fluttered in his chest in anticipation, uneasiness washing over him. This feeling...this..._unnameable__ thing__..._clutching at his shirt where his heart is, he can feel his breath come in ragged gasps. This feeling in his heart was so overwhelming, so all consuming...and it scared the _hell _out him.

Again, that tinkle of the bell. Again, like crimson paint to paper, his cheeks glow afire. He knows _she's _out there. Knows she will find him and they will fight. Knows that he can easily sneak up on her and take her down. He knows all of this...

….Even the song his heart sings...

_Just a little more, and I will make you mine..._

Gasping, he rolled to the left..._just _missing the kunei that buried handle deep into the tree trunk where his head once was. Shaking his head, he knew beyond a doubt that he had too _focus. _If he didn't focus, he'd be dead. This was a life or death training mission and as such, it needed to be treated. Jumping up on a branch, he caught sight of his target again and threw his own weapon. Secretly he was pleased when she was able to dodge.

_I can't think like this...she's my prey – my enemy..._

Flashes of pink filled his mind. How silky smooth it must feel, how sweet it must smell after it's washed. The times during their training, that she came into close contact, he was so tempted too run his hands through the silken pink locks. So tempted – if just for a fleeting second – taste her full lips and finally unravel the mystery that she was.

_I can't think like this! I can't! She's not mine to have! I'm nothing to her, just a team mate...just...a replacement... for **him...**_

To him, that's all he was. To his team mates, his "friends"...he heard the whispers. The same dark hair, cold eyes, pale skin...the only thing that kept them apart was their drive...and their past. Why couldn't people see passed his cold exterior to the heart beneath? Why couldn't they see his struggle to try and just _be_! To see that, behind the nicknames, there was a reason! When he called her, Ugly...in his mind and heart, he was whispering her name. A prayer. A muse. The ink to his brush, the song to his heart. Everything about her, he wished to capture in ink, forever to keep. Her shining eyes, when she smiled...the way her hair – the same colour as the breathtakingly beautiful flowers she was named for – shone in the sun. Her smile when she was happy...

Even the times where she was sad. At the loss of a friend, and tears fell like liquid diamonds down her cheeks so pale. The way her jade eyes shone, the tears clinging to lashes, little drops of dew just begging to be kissed away by his lips.

The fierceness of her in battle. Covered in cuts and bruises, so wounded and drained – yet she fights on healing himself and her friends, that fire of determination in her eyes. The blush on her cheeks, the most beautiful crimson. She is colours that have no name, her beauty outshines all others. Even the soft and quiet beauty of the moon...the fierce and raw beauty of the sun. She outshone them all.

The artist in him itched to paint it, capture it in pigments and ink. The man in him screamed to claim her. Kiss her until breathless, whisper to her the things he felt for her.

But he knew...

Deep down, the pain so raw and biting...so _**there! **_

He knew she would never be his. Not in this life or the next.

But...

What if, just for now...she would let him? What if, just for now – she would let him hold her close, whisper to her...see and taste her beauty. If allowed just that agonizing taste of her perfection, he could paint it from memory. Such a drawing would pale in comparison to the real thing, but even just that – he would be content as he could be in this circumstances – for the rest of his days.

Just to see her smile, hear her laugh, smell the scent that was purely _her. _He would be content...eventually maybe even he would find happiness.

But...

In this moment, as he gathers her close, whispers her name and she his. As their lips meet in a forbidden dance, only known by pure instinct...hearts entwine, forever. Souls reach out and embrace their beloved. Breath for breath, they dance this forbidden dance in the quiet secret of night...

Come morning, neither will speak of it. Neither will acknowledge it has happened. But deep down, in their heart of hearts, their will be a song. Each will sing the others name, souls will mourn for their lost beloved. Tears will fall...ink will run down a page of pure white...and still, the question will go unanswered, unchecked, unbalanced...the question he's kept tucked away in his heart of hearts forever...

_**I know you love him...but...couldn't you look at me instead...**_


End file.
